


Agony and Ecstasy

by beltainefaerie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Cock Cages, M/M, Sensation Play, Teasing, come at once round 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/pseuds/beltainefaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't understand the world's obsession with sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agony and Ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 24-hour prompt challenge, Come at Once (if convenient) for ariadnes_string's prompt, "but I made it myself".  
> Thanks to Tiger for the amazing lightening fast beta and help! I love you forever!

_This is agony, but I made it myself. I asked for this,_ Sherlock thought, _At least by scoffing at the idea of these damnable cages._

\---32 hours earlier---

The victim had been found wearing a chastity device and initially, the scene had looked like some sort of bondage game gone awry, which was precisely what the killer intended. However, something about it felt off and Lestrade called. Within minutes, Sherlock was able to deduce from ligature marks, some scuff marks on the floor and the angle of the equipment that it had all been staged after the fact as a cover-up. The humiliation of it was just an added bonus for the killer, but neither the cause nor the reason.

In the cab on the way back to the flat Sherlock fumed, frustrated with how easy it was to solve the case, and it seemed with humanity as a whole. His rant extended from the incompetence of the Yard to the uselessly simple minds of criminals these days and ending, of all things, with sex. 

“It’s just transport. Why does everyone get so worked up about it?”

“It?’ John asked, cocking one eyebrow. 

“Sex, John. Who you come with, whether you come in them on them or at all, how you do it, whether you have a single partner or two or the entire brass section of the London Symphony Orchestra. How often you do it, where you do it. Forced orgasms, orgasm denial. Is it kinky? Is it queer? Would you be embarrassed about it if people found out? It’s exhausting! It’s ridiculous! How can so many people act like the sun rises and sets with sex!”

John blinked at him slowly and licked his lips, which suddenly felt dry. This was more than Sherlock had ever said on the subject before, not just in any one sitting, but all his combined mentionings since that one fateful conversation over candlelight. He scoffed at relationships, perhaps in part because they’d seen so many cases of them going wrong. 

“Well, it can be interesting, it feels good, and society seems alternately obsessed with suppressing it and exploiting it. Some have even suggested it is one of the primary human needs.”

“Maybe some people can’t disconnect their brains from their bollocks, but I certainly can. It isn’t like you cease to function without it.” Sherlock waved a dismissive hand.

“Not everyone is you.”

“Unfortunately,” Sherlock drawled.

John got a calculating look. “Would you like to understand?”

“What on earth does that mean?” Sherlock glared.

“Would you like to try to understand?” his smile turned devilish and intriguing.

Sherlock looked for a moment as though he was going to rip into John for his idiocy, but then his eyes narrowed, considering. “What do you propose?”

 

\---

An hour and a half after that, Sherlock found himself stretched out naked on his bed, with the exception of a makeshift blindfold which may have been a tie before it was twisted and knotted around his head. And the cock cage. He didn’t ask where it had come from or try to deduce which of John’s previous lovers it had been purchased by _or for?_

John was still fully dressed and not touching him. Pointedly, not touching him. 

The silent sibilance of John’s breathing seemed the loudest thing Sherlock had ever heard. 

Occasionally, he felt the warmth of a hand just above his skin. Hovering, ghosting along his side, his thigh.

Once, just once in all that time, he was certain that lips, John’s lips, had hovered just above his own. He felt himself arch up towards that kiss, minutely and then John was gone. He heard the click of the door and nearly ripped the blindfold off in his frustration with the whole thing. But that would ruin it. The experiment and… whatever else this was. 

At the onset John had told him he could stop at anytime he wanted. All he had to do was ask. He could say it was too much. John had asked if there was anything he couldn’t do. Boring details. Sherlock hadn’t taken anything off the table even after John had pressed him to consider his question carefully. He trusted John with this, with anything.

When he presented the blindfold, he’d asked if Sherlock could be still or if he should tie him down. Sherlock scoffed again. Of course he could remain still, he often did for hours at a time. He hadn’t understood the way John smiled as if it were a challenge. 

He understood it now.  
. 

\----

John had teased for hours, that ghostly warmth or occasional caress. At one point a feather, at another a trail of cold metal, possibly a chain. The light scratch of nails. All manner of sensations and not once had it been boring. 

Sherlock wasn’t quite sure how long his cock had been interested in the proceedings, but he thought it might have come up hours ago, or rather, tried to, and he knew he would never take that ability for granted again.

 

Exhausted from the sensations that were not John’s skin against his, not the touch that had been hinted at and never delivered, for hours, Sherlock finally conceded. 

“John, please.” Sherlock croaked.

And John smiled.

“Please what, Sherlock?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I didn't have time for the actual sex. Hopefully it was enjoyable anyway. I worked all day, so this was written in an hour and a half!


End file.
